“You certainly are outspoken, Miss Estelle.”
“Well, I believe a body ought to say what they think.”
“That can get you into trouble sometimes,” John said lightly.
“Yes, I know. But I like to shock people. I can’t say I shocked you, though. You must be used to compliments from the ladies,” she went on mischievously.
“Not exactly. I’m used to giving them—not receiving them.” John laughed.
“Spoken like a true gentleman. But you’ve let me ramble on again. If you will wait in the drawing room, I’ll go and tell Kareen you’re here.”
“Thank you, and it has been a delight meeting you, Miss Estelle.”
“I can definitely say the same about you, Lieutenant Wakefield. But we’ll meet again, I’m sure,” she added, and disappeared down the hallway.
After a few minutes, Kareen appeared in the doorway looking as beautiful as he last remembered.
“I thought my sister was playing a joke on me when she said you were here,” she said. “She does that occasionally. But why are you here so early, Lieutenant Wakefield?”
“Kareen—I know this is only our second meeting, but won’t you please call me John?” he asked, putting all his boyish charm into his request.
“All right, John,” she smiled. “But what brings you here?”
“I don’t exactly know how to tell you this,” John said, turning away from her inquiring eyes. He walked over to the open window and stood looking out, his hands clasped behind his back. “You’ve been here only a month, Kareen, but you know about my sister’s disappearance?”
“Yes, my uncle told me about it when I mentioned I’d met you,” she replied.
“Christina was kidnapped right from her room the very first night we were in Cairo. Christina and I were very close. I searched everywhere for her and practically went out of my mind with worry. But she was returned to me today—this morning.”
“John—that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you. Is she all right?”
He turned to face her, and could see that she was really pleased for him.
“She’s fine, but I haven’t had a chance to talk with her yet. She rode for nearly a week and is sleeping now. I wanted to tell you first so you’d understand why I can’t escort you to the opera tonight. I have to be there when Crissy wakes up.”
“Of course I understand, and I thank you for explaining it to me. Can I do anything to help?”
“It’s kind of you to ask, Kareen. Perhaps in a few days you could call on her. I don’t know how easily she will adjust to being home again. I only pray that she will be able to forget her terrible experiences.”
“I’m sure she will be all right in time, John,” Kareen replied.
“I hope so.”
Christina had been asleep for twelve hours. It was nearly midnight, and John continued to pace the drawing room impatiently. There were so many things he had to know. He didn’t want to pounce on her the minute she awoke, but he had to have some answers. Would Crissy be the same person, or had these last four months changed her?
John went to her door and opened it quietly. But Crissy was still curled on her side, her head resting on one hand. He walked into the room slowly and stood beside the bed gazing down at her as he had done so many times this evening.
She hadn’t lost any weight and looked healthy, though dirty. She wore a skirt and blouse in the style of the desert people. But it was made of fine green velvet with spangled lace adorning the edges. She looked like an Arab princess.
She had said in her letter that she wanted for nothing. The man must have taken good care of her. And that just made it more puzzling, because John wondered how any man, once having her, could let her go. Christina had such unusual beauty. Something about her was different—stunning and yet indescribable—something that set her apart from all other women who were called beautiful.
Suddenly Christina opened her eyes and blinked a few times, obviously wondering where she was.
“It’s all right, Crissy,” John said. He sat down on the side of the bed. “You are home now.”
She looked at him, her eyes filling with tears, and the next moment she was clinging to him as if her life depended on it.
“John! Oh, Johnny—hold me. Tell me it was just a dream—that it never happened,” she sobbed.
